Insert witty clubrelated fic title here
by tant-gredelin
Summary: Ichigo and Renji are reluctantly dragged off to a night club where they discover shakin' booty really isn't that bad. Yaoi, One-shot


A/n Written for a kink meme on LJ with the simple prompt Renji/Ichigo - club scene. I jotted it down very quickly and so the quality of the piece ain't the best but I figured it might be worth posting anyhow.

Pairing: Renji/Ichigo as usual

Disclaimer: No beta, English is not my first language and I don't own Bleach.

----

It had been Rangiku who dragged them off to the club. It was _always_ Rangiku.

She stormed into Ichigo's house wearing the skimpiest real world clothes she owned, dumped a pound of glitter she'd bought on the way down her cleavage and glossed her full lips until they looked like they were smeared in honey before flashing him and Renji her brightest smile, her grey eyes hard as flint, and announcing they would be leaving in half an hour.

They hadn't stood a chance.

Ichigo went through his closet per little miss Hitler's orders and fished out two dress shirts. One was much too large for him so he handed it to Renji. It still barely fit the redhead. He'd had to leave enough buttons open for a strip of the tattoos on his chest to show.

Ichigo bit his lip and busied himself with his own shirt, trying his best not to stare.

Before leaving, their tormentor grabbed Renji by the ponytail and told him to let his hair down. Ichigo had to step in between and meddle as Renji blatantly refused.

In the end they came to a compromise consisting of Renji being allowed to keep his bandana and Ichigo having to braid the crimson hair. They hadn't even left the house yet and the young shinigami was already exhausted.

He and Renji were dragged to the club, literally. Rangiku grabbed their hands as soon as they were out the door and held on until they reached the entrance.

Once inside they shed their jackets and started adjusting to the wall of music that met them, rattling their insides and pounding their eardrums.

The only thought in Ichigo's head was to get a drink, to get three drinks, to get as many as it took to be able to stand being there.

He looked up at Renji and from the look on the redhead's face Ichigo guessed he was thinking the same thing.

Get drunk. Quickly.

Before he'd even taken a single step towards the bar, he noticed that the busty lieutenant who'd forced him to come was busy chatting up some beefcake who'd just happened to walk by. Great.

Renji had noticed as well and elbowed Ichigo in the ribs while cocking a brow. Ichigo wasn't sure if that meant 'lucky guy' or 'poor bastard' or 'that fucking bitch dragged us here and then dumped us' so he just smiled and nodded while rubbing his side.

He guessed they were off the hook now and could go home, but Renji had walked ahead of him and the shirt Ichigo had let him borrow fit like a second skin and he never wore a braid otherwise, except for sleep, and suddenly Ichigo just couldn't stop looking.

If Renji stayed, Ichigo stayed and he could _really_ use that drink now.

So he followed Renji into the club proper.

The atmosphere in the big room was intense. The dance floor was practically boiling with the DJ having every writhing body on it wrapped around his finger. Every change of tracks, every tiny uppage of the bpm were instantly reflected on the faces below him.

Ichigo stood leaning against a wall, staring in fascination while now and then taking a sip of his drink which was large and fruity and, well… pink. He had no idea what was in it, Renji had ordered it for him, but it tasted good. So good in fact, he suspected it was one of those concoctions that knocked you out completely since you weren't able to taste the alcohol at all.

Renji stood next to him, chewing on the straw stuck in his own drink.

Ichigo wouldn't have thought it of him before but the rugged shinigami loved everything sweet, his alcohol most of all. During other visits to bars it had been hilarious to help him discover the drinks of the living world, hear him wrap his tongue around words like 'vodka' and 'bailey's' and 'caipirinha' (the last one especially, since Renji'd had three of those already when he tried.)

It had been like letting a kid loose in a candy store. A big, foul-mouthed tattooed kid who'd only had sake flavoured treats earlier.

The drink currently in Renji's hand was a poisonous shade of green and tasted of apples. Ichigo knew because Renji had given him a choice of tasting it or washing it off his shirt.

The young man was getting drunk, pleasantly so. The loud music that had made him want to turn around and leave when they'd first gotten there was getting to him, making him nod his head and feel this strange tingle in the middle. His hips were telling him to put his drink down and get the fuck out on that floor and _move_.

Surely he couldn't. Ichigo didn't dance. Didn't know how to.

The itching sensation in his hips made him restless so he drank faster without really noticing. It was Renji's hand on his wrist that made him realise he'd emptied his glass while Renji's still was half full.

So he got another one, plus one for Renji, put them both down on a table before giving Renji the universal sign for 'drink up already' and then handed him the next one.

He didn't really think about what he was doing. He didn't really think at all. He felt the bass pound in his chest and the feeling of Renji's fingers on his wrist lingered and when he next looked down into his glass it was empty as well.

So was Renji's.

And life was kinda sweet.

Renji smacked him in the shoulder, flashed him a stunning, drunken grin and shoved him towards the dance floor.

The DJ had started bringing people down from the fever pitch by putting on something slower, almost lazy. The bass that rode the laidback beat was made for rolling hips and swaying bodies and so Ichigo obeyed the music. He moved his hips in a way he had never dared to before in his life, a way that felt almost obscene. The mood on the dance floor combined with the alcohol in his bloodstream made him bold. He lost himself for a while, simply enjoying his buzz before something hit him and he turned around, wondering if Renji was still close by. His breath hitched when he saw that he was.

The older shinigami was a couple of steps away from him, moving in a way Ichigo found amazing for such a big, angular man who'd never been known for his gracefulness. But that was exactly what he was now. Graceful. His entire body was rolling, from up-stretched arms down to slightly bent knees, the movement fluid like a belly dancer's.

Ichigo felt his mouth go dry. The display before him was so blatantly erotic he could feel his cock start to stir into life and he began to blush. Still, liquid courage coursed through his veins so he acted on it, not knowing when he'd run out. He took a step forward and plastered a smile on his face so he could write it off as a joke in case Renji didn't want him to come any closer, but when the redhead looked up his eyes were hazy and the look he shot Ichigo was nothing but welcoming. So Ichigo took another step.

Renji stepped in as well, closing the distance between them and when they rolled their hips again, out of rhythm with each other, their thighs met and Ichigo couldn't stop a sudden moan. If not hearing it then Renji must have at least seen the lips part because he put his hand on Ichigo's hip and the next time they moved in time with the beat his leg pushed between Ichigo's and suddenly there was nothing but a thin layer of clothing between the two bodies.

Ichigo could see the sweat glistening on the skin showing where Renji's shirt was unbuttoned. He wanted to lick it off. Renji's breath, hot and shallow, washed against the side of his face and Ichigo wanted to feel it _everywhere_.

The young man bit his lip and steeled himself. He had nothing to lose, could blame it all on the music, and thrust forward with his hips. His thigh, lodged between Renji's legs, just like Renji's was lodged between his, brushed the crotch of his jeans, close enough for Ichigo to feel there was a rather substantial erection trapped against the fabric.

This time it was Renji's turn to moan and he did so no more than an inch away from Ichigo's ear, while sliding his arm around Ichigo's slim waist and pulling him flush against his chest, still moving in that flowing, graceful way of his.

Ichigo took a deep breath and just followed his instincts, let his inhibitions go. He let himself be ruled by the music and the drinks he'd had and the heady scent of Renji, of salty sweat and alcohol and green apples. He put an arm around Renji's neck and hung on as dry lips brushed his ear.

Ichigo closed his eyes and moaned again, rocking against Renji and feeling the hard bulge against his hip again and again.

It was all happening so fast, and why not? It all felt good. _He_ felt good. Renji felt even better.

Ichigo rubbed himself against Renji, all but humped his thigh like a fucking dog, anything to get the friction needed to get off. He was so goddamn hard and he felt dizzy and the lights on the dance floor did nothing to help. If he could stay here like this, move like this just a _little bit longer _and a_ little bit rougher,_ he was sure he'd cum.

Renji's hand slowly slipped down to Ichigo's ass and squeezed. He let his mouth slide from Ichigo's ear down his neck, sucking on smooth, sweaty skin while using the hand that had been on Ichigo's waist to pop a couple of buttons in his shirt open, pushing the fabric aside and shamelessly dragging his tongue along a clavicle. That drew a long groan from the younger man who tilted his head back in appreciation.

They were still dancing, still grinding against each other but the lust was making their rhythm falter and Ichigo knew they had to get out of there because no matter how brave he felt at the moment he didn't want to get thrown out from the club. It was cold outside, it had probably started to snow by now and they would have enough time to cool down, to sober up, to start _thinking_ again if they had to walk back to his place to be able to continue this. He couldn't stand the thought of not finishing whatever it was they had started.

He'd fantasised about Renji on more than a few occasions, jerking off and biting his hand not to shout as he imagined the redhead fucking him into oblivion. It was one of his most shameful secrets. He barely even allowed himself to think about it, they were _friends_, damnit! Good friends! _Only _friends!

But here he was, grinding against his friend and, as it seemed, the friend was grinding right back. That made it ok.

Right?

He reached behind him, removed the hand from his ass and, the music too loud for them to be able to talk, just interlaced his fingers with Renji's before he started to push through the mass of dancing people and away from the dance floor.

They ended up in a corridor that led to the restrooms and the exit and suddenly the volume was low enough for them to speak. They just didn't have very much to say, bodies and eyes doing all the talking.

"Where?" Renji finally managed to force out.

"I don't know." Ichigo ran a hand through his sweaty hair and bit his lip hard enough to taste copper. He wanted to kiss his friend so badly it _hurt. _It physically hurt.

"Restroom."

"Yeah."

On their way down the corridor Renji tugged on a few door handles by chance, something positively wicked igniting in his eyes when one of them turned and a door swung open, revealing a janitor's closet.

He looked over his shoulder and then grabbed Ichigo by the neck, more or less shoving him into the tiny room before locking the door behind them.

It was dark except for a tiny sliver of light where door met floor. Ichigo dragged his hand along the wall in search of a light switch but Renji, sensing what he was doing, grabbed his wrist.

"No, leave it."

They grew still, just breathing. For how long, Ichigo had no idea. They didn't even touch, except for the grip on Ichigo's wrist. He felt something nagging in the back of his head, something like rational thought trying to claw its way through the lust and drunken fog so he acted before it was too late by pushing his fingers into Renji's hair (nearly taking his eye out first) and smashing their mouths together.

Renji let out a surprised grunt that morphed into a long moan. He released Ichigo's wrist and wrapped his arms around him while sinking his teeth into the plump bottom lip he'd been presented with. He was rewarded with a whimper and Ichigo's other hand coming up to cup his cheek. It was clumsy but soft, fingers gently tickling his temple. The affectionate touch was seemingly lost on the big redhead, though, drowned out by jean-clad erections grinding together.

Ichigo wasn't very aware of how he was touching Renji either, failed to notice the extra lurch in his belly as their tongues met and intertwined. All he knew was that he wanted _more_.

When Renji's hands started working on the buttons of Ichigo's shirt he let the red hair go, reached out blindly and grabbed shelves behind him to steady himself instead. Big, rough hands were all over his chest and belly, running up his back and trying to push down inside the back of his jeans. Ichigo suddenly cursed his own preference for tight fitting clothes.

He fought back a moan when Renji's mouth started kissing and nipping its way down his chest before coming to a stop at a small nipple and closing over it.

Oh god, Renji's tongue felt amazing, so skilled it should be illegal. It probably was, somewhere in the world. He was sure of it. "Fuck, Renji, fuck…"

Renji released the now achingly stiff little nub. "Don't talk. Just let me…"

Ichigo nodded and wished there was some light, wished he could see Renji right now. See kiss-swollen lips and red cheeks and blazing hooded eyes. At least that was how he imagined him. He idly wondered where Renji's hands had gone but the tongue was back with teeth in company and soon all his thoughts were blown away.

He ran his hands over Renji wherever he could reach, over braided hair and a sweaty neck, over broad shoulders and a slightly scruffy chin. Just when his fingers clumsily started working on the buttons of Renji's shirt the big shinigami slipped from his grip and sank to his knees.

The only thing that could be heard in the little closet after that was ragged breathing and the 'pop pop pop' of a button fly coming open.

Renji was on his knees in front of him, so close Ichigo could feel hot breaths against his stomach. Renji was pulling his jeans down, abandoning them mid-thigh. Renji was panting like a dog and grabbing Ichigo's ass. Renji was _in the motherfucking closet with him_! How rich.

And what could Ichigo possibly do when his briefs followed his jeans and Renji's mouth was on him, hot and wet? Nothing but bite the fleshy base of his thumb and cry out, that's what.

The cry turned into a string of words, a long muffled row of 'I've wanted this for so long I've wanted you for so long I love your mouth I love your hands I love-' and the harder Renji sucked, the harder Ichigo bit and the louder the words got until something gave.

Renji's mouth slid off him and big hands reached for his and when they were grabbed and pulled down, Ichigo felt the taste of blood on his tongue and oh god what had he been saying?

The young shinigami felt panic rise in his chest. It was almost as if the quickened rush of blood was washing the alcohol away because his head grew clearer and his heart grew heavier by the second.

He tried to pull his hands away but instead Renji kissed the palms and licked the wound Ichigo had created. "Shh. I know, Ichigo. I know." Then he released them, once more wrapping his own calloused one around Ichigo's cock and sucked him back into his mouth.

Ichigo was at a loss, unable to comprehend what had just happened. He really tried to, but Renji's mouth was back to ripping his sanity to shreds and pushing panic and insight into the dark corners of his mind.

It was over too quickly. Renji had somehow managed to take all of him. Ichigo had never experienced that before. Heard about it, sure, but had almost believed it to be a myth. But no, Renji had Ichigo's cock all the way down his throat and when he swallowed around it Ichigo nearly doubled over and came without warning.

Before he had managed to catch his breath, Renji was back on his feet and kissing him with a mouth full of cum. Another first for Ichigo. He swallowed automatically and nearly choked on it but Renji's tongue, Renji's cursed, talented tongue was wrapping around his and teasing it until he moaned instead.

Their mouths parted and the two men stood there panting, watching each other without seeing a damn thing.

Finally Renji grabbed Ichigo's uninjured hand and pushed it against the front of his jeans, rubbing it over the bulge and thrusting forward with his hips. No words were needed.

Ichigo's lips latched on to a sweaty, tattooed neck and he kissed it while his trembling fingers worked on Renji's zipper. Renji tilted his head back and Ichigo more felt than heard the low growl against his lips. Without much ceremony he shoved his hand down the boxers he'd bared and wrapped it around the throbbing cock found there, giving it a couple of slow strokes.

He wasn't sure of how to proceed. Did Renji want him to repay the favour and give him head? Did he want to fuck Ichigo? In the end he just kept working the length while tugging boxers and jeans down with his free hand.

Renji was moaning quietly between every laboured breath he took. His forehead rested on Ichigo's shoulder and his hands gripped the upper arms hard enough to bruise. "Harder…"

Ichigo obeyed instantly by tightening his grip and picking up the speed, making it rougher. "Like this..?"

"Ngh… Yeah, like that. Fuck, don't stop. Don't stop..."

He wouldn't dream of stopping, he'd have given Renji anything he wanted right then and was just about to tell him so when Renji's hips started bucking and the cock in his hand swelled.

"Fuck, Ichigo... _Fuck!_" Renji threw his head back and cried out at the ceiling while thrusting hard into the tight fist, his cum splattering over Ichigo's belly and hand.

"Fuck…" Ichigo whispered in a tame imitation of the ragged cry. He kept moving his hand, milking out the last drops and then just held still. He didn't want to let go. He wanted to stay like this with Renji's softening cock in his hand and Renji's hot breath washing over his face. He wanted to stay like this and _not start thinking_ because he knew whatever happened next would fuck something up. He wasn't sure what that something was and he didn't dare think about it. He just knew it would be bad.

As soon as one of them moved or spoke things would go to hell. As soon as-

Renji put his hand over Ichigo's and squeezed gently, kept it wrapped around his cock. Then he searched blindly with his lips until he found Ichigo's and kissed him deep, still tasting of cum and apples. "Not just you," he rasped when he broke the kiss. "Been wanting to do this for a while too."

"B-but we're just drunk."

"Yeah. Tomorrow, you wanna blame this…" Renji squeezed Ichigo's sticky hand again. "…on the drinking?"

"No."

"Me neither. Let's get cleaned up and get out of here. It's a fucking janitor's closet, oughta be something we can use. Turn the lights on, willya?"

Ichigo allowed himself to smile like an idiot until he found the switch.


End file.
